


pas de deux

by swallowthewhale



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:24:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8204311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowthewhale/pseuds/swallowthewhale
Summary: Sara’s lips are thin as she glares at Rip. “If I have to do this,” she growls, “then I get to choose who I do it with.” She turns on her heel and steps in close enough to Leonard that he leans back against the wall, even though she’s careful not to touch him. “Looks like we’re getting married, Len.”





	1. Chapter 1

“No,” Sara says flatly. “No way.”

Leonard is enjoying watching Rip’s face become more and more tomato red as he tries to convince Sara that she should go undercover as a married couple with Ray. Not that Ray irritates Sara in the same way he irritates Leonard (to the point where Leonard has taken to hiding action figures of the ATOM around the ship a la Elf on the Shelf to annoy Ray). But last week Ray had, well, insinuated that Laurel was a bunch of very offensive things and Sara has been playing with her knives in front of him a lot more often, resulting in Ray startling at small noises and remaining a constant sickly shade of green. Leonard is enjoying it immensely.

“You’d be better off sending him with Mick,” Sara growls.

Leonard snickers. In the past week alone, Mick has taped Ray’s mouth shut with Duct tape, locked him in the storage room three times, taken apart and hidden pieces of the ATOM suit, and put purple hair dye in Ray’s shampoo. Mick wouldn’t last an hour without knocking Ray unconscious. Which is to say that an angry Sara would probably do far, far worse.

Rip is now explaining in a overly calm voice that Sara is the only woman left, and a gay couple would raise more attention than they want, even in the 2100s. He’s also put the console between himself and Sara.

Sara’s lips are thin as she glares at Rip. “If I _have_ to do this,” she growls, “then I get to choose who I do it with.” She turns on her heel and steps in close enough to Leonard that he leans back against the wall, even though she’s careful not to touch him. “Looks like we’re getting married, Len.”

He gives her twenty minutes to cool off before finding her in the fabrication room.

“Are you sure you want me on this?” he drawls. “I’m not the marriage type.”

Sara throws a duffel bag at him. “Are you saying you’ve never been in love?”

Leonard sorts through the clothing choices absentmindedly, keeping an eye on Sara, who’s folding clothes into her own bag. He’s surprised she’s not just filling the whole thing with weapons. “My gun is my one true love,” he snarks.

She rolls her eyes and catches his arm. He stills. “You’re the one I trust to have my back out there,” she says, serious.

Her gaze is too honest and he looks away. He sighs, feigning annoyance. “I guess I’ll have to take one for the team. As long as you promise not to kill me in my sleep.” 

Sara’s grin is a touch on the scary side. “You know you don’t have to be sleeping for that,” she murmurs before stepping back.

He clears his throat. He would be lying if he said that the intimidating side of Sara didn’t turn him on a little bit. “So,” he says, louder. “What exactly is the point of all this? I stopped paying attention.”

Sara shrugs. “Something about surveillance on our neighbors and casing a house that’s hosting a party on Saturday.”

Leonard sighs. “Great. A party.”

Sara grins and makes a show of checking him out. “I’ve been wanting to see how well you clean up.”

“What about Russia?”

Sara places a fedora on his head. He scowls up at it. “I didn’t get to see you all fancy in Russia, remember?” she murmurs in his ear before backing up.

He swipes the hat off his head and puts it on her’s while her back is turned. “It suits you.”

She smirks at him from under the brim. “Maybe we can match.”

The house is much smaller that Leonard expected. Not that they need much room for a couple bags of clothes, Sara’s weapons, and the surveillance equipment. Most of the small space is taken up by empty boxes.

He glares out the window while Sara hangs up her clothes. If he didn’t see her coming in the reflection on the window pane, he might have startled when she bumps her cheek against his arm.

“What’s wrong?”

He shifts, crossing his arms. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Sara leans against the wall so she can see his face. “You think we’ve been made already?”

He shrugs.

“Like Alexa.” It’s less a question and more a statement. He nods anyway.

“Keep your eyes open, Canary.”

She nudges his shoe with her own. “I’ve got your back.”

No one knocks on their door that night except the Chinese delivery girl. Sara’s not surprised. Rip warned them that the neighborhood tends to be private and that the neighbors probably wouldn’t introduce themselves. Leonard eyebrows are still pinched together, though, and he doesn’t stray far from his gun. Sara doesn’t tell him, but when he goes to take a shower, she slides her knives into place.

The party the following night doesn’t start until ten and likely will last long past midnight, so they stay up late to keep an eye on the hosts next door. They play five hands of poker, and three of Rummy 500 before Sara breaks out the ice cream. The ice cream on the ship tastes more like air than anything else, so Sara had snuck out to stock up on the good stuff. They eat straight from the tub, Sara sitting on the kitchen table and Leonard in a chair with his feet up.

“Still got bad feeling?”

He eyes her. She sucks on her spoon, swinging her legs under the table. “I don’t think anyone’s going to break in and try to abduct us,” he drawls.

Sara almost lets it slide. “But?”

Leonard sits up straight, leaning in, suddenly very serious. “Sara.”

She drops the spoon back into the tub, concerned.

“I think someone might be watching us.”

She leans down so that they’re cheek to cheek. “Should we put on a show?” she breathes in his ear.

He pulls away enough to see that her eyes are bright and playful. She probably thinks he won’t do it. Well, he was never one to back down from a challenge. He smiles slowly, wraps a hand around her arm, and kisses her.

Sara stays very still, surprised, but then sighs into him. And slides into his lap. Now she can definitely tell how interested he is.

“Bedroom?”

\---

The bedroom has blackout curtains, and Sara had closed them earlier. Now, she turns on the radio loud enough to disguise their voices from anyone listening.

Leonard keeps to the opposite side of the room. The lines between real and pretend are fading and he’s not sure how long he can hold onto his facade of cool indifference the more Sara touches him.

“Should we still go tomorrow?” Sara asks him.

“Well, we both know what Rip would say if we change the plan now.”

Sara rolls her eyes. “You would think he’s learned by now that his plans never go well.”

“I guess that means we’re going to have to make a flawless couple tomorrow.” He smirks. “Maybe we should practice.” He’s about fifty-fifty on the practice. On the one hand, it’s _Sara_. And on the other… well it’s been a while since he’s been in bed with anyone.

Sara smiles a little too sweetly. “Think you can handle me, Leonard?”

If Leonard was a lesser man, he would have gulped like a cartoon character. As it is, his pants get a little bit tighter. He grins in a decidedly smug way, looking like the cat who ate the canary. So to speak.

Sara’s grin only grows when he can’t think of a witty comeback. “C’mon, Captain Cold.” She tosses a pillow at him. “Let’s get some sleep.”

He clears his throat. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Wouldn’t that look suspicious to whoever’s watching?” She sits to take off her shoes. “Besides you’re like half a foot taller than me. If anyone should take the couch it should be me.”

He scowls and crosses his arms, ready to dig in for a fight. But she surprises him.

“Why don’t we just share the bed,” she says casually, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. She looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “There’s plenty of room.”

When he gives in, he tells himself that it’s because he doesn’t want to blow their cover. He’ll never ever admit that being close to Sara is intoxicating. And Leonard is addicted.


	2. Chapter 2

Leonard sleeps flat on his back, one arm behind his head and the other draped over his chest, as if he’s still in a prison bunk. Sara sleeps curled up like a cat and she moves around a lot. When Leonard wakes up, Sara has tucked herself into his ridgid sides, hands tangled in his shirt. He’s too tired to move, though, and he falls back asleep. The next time he wakes, the sun is peeking around the edge of the curtains and he can see Sara practicing Tai Chi in just a t-shirt and underwear through the doorway. He groans. He’s going to be taking a lot of cold showers this week.

They’re exactly seven minutes late to the party. Leonard waits by the window in his suit, tapping his foot impatiently while he watches the first guests arrive. They don’t want to be too early or too late, they just need to get there at a moment when no one will pay too much attention. Leonard’s hopes for staying under the radar decrease when he sees Sara’s dress. Everyone at the party will have their eyes on her. 

“On me,” she grins when he points this out. “So you can snoop around unnoticed.” She pats his cheek.

Leonard won’t ever admit that he’s sure someone nicer and more attractive will snatch her up while he’s gone. Not that Sara’s particularly vulnerable to being snatched, but Leonard hasn’t forgotten the pretty nurse from the 50s.

“How many knives do you have hidden in there?”

Sara winks and tucks her clutch under her arm. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Sara’s right, she leaves him to lean up against the wall in a dark corner and mingles with the crowd, giving him plenty of time to take stock of the guests and map out the house in his head. He waits until Sara comes back over to check on him, and under the pretense of getting her a drink from the kitchen, he slips out to poke around the first floor. There’s nothing, not even locked drawers or hidden safes. Leonard isn’t sure whether the papers he’s looking for are in a different part of the house or if Rip picked the entirely wrong house. Neither option seems unbelievable.

Sara tucks her arm into his elbow and accepts the glass of champagne he hands her. “Anything?” she asks quietly.

He smiles thinly. “Just the alcohol.”

Sara’s smile remains firmly in place, but Leonard knows her well enough now to see the way her eyebrows pinch for a moment before smoothing out. “Maybe upstairs? Or the basement?”

“Too risky.”

“What if we went together?”

Sara cocks her head up at him as he considers. They could play it off as trying to find a quiet room to take a break from the party. He nods and lets Sara lead him out.

“Just looking for the bathroom,” Sara says sweetly, her hand squeezing Leonard’s, when someone asks where they’re going.

The woman raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask why Sara needs her husband for that. Leonard almost smirks. Maybe that will slow down the woman’s rather insesscant flirting. She hasn’t wandered far from Sara all night.

Leonard grins smugly at the woman as Sara tugs him up the stairs. But then she’s pressing him up against a door, her knee sliding between his legs, and the smirk slides off his face. In four inch heels, Sara can press her cheek to his. It’s easier still when his knees go weak and he slides down the wall. She rests her chin on his shoulder as she works on the lock behind him. Leonard keeps his hands on her waist, all too aware of the way her body fits neatly against his. Sara seems to notice his interest, and gently rocks against him before pulling away. Leonard almost groans, but instead turns and opens the door.

They find the papers they need in a safe hidden behind a painting. “Predictable,” Leonard mutters. “And boring.” He guesses the combination on the first try and tucks the papers into the inner pocket of his jacket. They leave the party an hour later, begging a long day of unpacking in the morning. Sara walks home barefooted, her heels swinging in one hand, and the other holding up the hem of her dress. Leonard falls behind to admire the picture she makes, and wonders when he lost all semblance of self-control.

Sara comes out of the bathroom with damp hair wearing a very thin white tank top, and obviously nothing underneath. Leonard turns the water in the shower as cold as it goes. He’s glad he pulls the towel into the shower without opening the curtain because Sara’s there when he does, arms folded across her chest and her chin set stubbornly. He hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Sara,” Leonard says quietly, hoping that his face doesn’t betray him. He pulls on his shirt as quickly as he can without making himself seem anxious.

“We need to talk,” she says flatly.

He leans against the sink, gripping the cool countertop so that his hands don’t shake. “About?”

She crowds into him, careful not to touch, but close enough that he can see the way her eyes skip down to his lips and then back up.

Leonard stays very still.

“We’ve been dancing around this ever since you came back,” Sara whispers. “And if your feelings have changed, that’s fine.” She wraps her fingers around his wrist. “But I haven’t been getting that impression.”

“What do you want from me, Sara?” he asks more sharply than he intended. But Sara isn’t fazed.

“I want to get to the good stuff,” she says, her fingers still warm on his wrist. She doesn’t move any closer, though.

“I don’t think I can give you what you want,” Leonard finally says, his eyes fixed on the wall over Sara’s head.

He startles when her other hand grips his chin and forces him to meet her gaze. She’s not amused. “What I want, Leonard, is you.”

Leonard gives in, kisses her hard, and yanks her against him with a hand around her waist. “I died,” he says against her lips.

“Join the club,” Sara replies.

“I’ve got baggage,” he insists.

“I have a big closet,” Sara whispers, and this time when she leads him to the bedroom they don’t argue about who gets the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Leonard is gone the next morning when Sara returns from her run. She trips over his boots when she walks through the door. Panic grips her throat, and she sinks to the floor wheezing. Gideon had promised that Leonard wouldn't disappear back into the time stream. 

Sara slams her fist against her chest and inhales desperately. She stands, walks to the bathroom, and sticks her entire head under the cold shower water. Then she slides her knives into their places, clicks the halves of her bo staff together, and calls Mick.

At the end of the hallway are a neat cluster of three arrows, set deep in the wall. Sara recognizes those arrows. She had watched them kill her in slow motion in her dreams for the past year. On the first floor is a single arrow through a fluttering piece of paper. “I'm a man of my word.”

Leonard was right. Someone was watching them.

Mick doesn’t say anything when Sara walks outside. He hands her the tablet he had swiped from the ship and drives while Sara types. He sees her scrolling through lists of names and wonders when Sara learned how to hack.

They search twenty places before Mick forces Sara to eat something. Another thirty before Mick makes her take a nap. He can’t sleep himself. Things may not be perfect between him and Snart, haven’t been for a long time, but Snart is still his partner. His friend.

“We’ll find him,” Mick says firmly, out loud.

“I know,” Sara says from the backseat, where she was supposed to be sleeping.

Mick scowls as she climbs back into the front.

“Let’s check the next one.”

At house number sixty-seven, Rip calls. Sara ignores the phone and Mick finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Mr Rory, why are you with Sara?”

“She called,” he grunts, swinging around a corner.

Rip sighs. “Why are Mr Snart and Ms Lance not at the safe house?”

“Compromised. Snart’s gone.” Mick hangs up as he parks the car.

Sara is already halfway to the door. It’s an old warehouse, with broken windows and colorful graffiti. Mick pulls his gun out. This is the place.


	4. Chapter 4

There’s such a thick coating of dust on the stairs leading up that Mick doesn’t even bother to look around on the second floor. The stairs going down to the basement are clean, though, and Mick follows Sara down, his gun steady but his heart thumping. Sara heads straight down the hall without looking into any of the rooms. He wonders if it’s some kind of special League training or if she has some kind of sixth sense. She’s a lot like Snart in that way.

Sara lets Mick go in first, but the room is empty, save for a bruised Snart hanging from the ceiling in chains. His toes barely touch the ground. Sara grips her staff tightly enough that her fingers start to tingle and looks around. There’s another door on the right side of the room, closed and probably locked. The door they entered through wasn’t locked. Sara knows it’s probably a trap. So she tries to do the opposite of what they would expect her to. She sidles closer to Leonard, who is watching her from under hooded eyes. He doesn’t say anything. That was the second warning sign.

“Hey, Boss,” Mick says, and Leonard’s eyes flit over then back to Sara.

She frowns as Mick comes up beside her. “Try not to hit me with that thing,” she says.

Mick grunts, and that’s all the preparation they get before Merlyn is there.

Sara knows that Mick thinks they lost, but Sara considers it more of a draw. Sure, they ended up retreating and left Leonard behind, but Sara’s got a weird feeling about Leonard. He could never resist a snarky comment, even in the worst of situations. He would never have been so quiet.

“What’re you thinking, blondie?”

Sara flexes her hands around the steering wheel. She’s been driving in circles, debating whether they should go back and take Merlyn on again, or ask the team for help. “Leonard was acting weird.”

Mick half shrugs. “He was beaten up pretty bad.”

It takes three more loops of the neighborhood for Sara to realize what had been nagging at her. She stops short and yanks the car over to the side of the road. “He was wearing different clothes.”

Mick just stares.

“When we packed we each only brought one pair of clothes and the fancy stuff for the party. The clothes Leonard was wearing in the warehouse weren’t the clothes he brought.”

Mick grunts. “That wasn’t our Snart.”

“So where is he?”

Jax and Stein come with them this time. Sara slings Leonard’s cold gun over her shoulder. She’s seen the speedster with Darkh before, and it’s definitely better to be prepared.

Ray managed to rig Gideon’s metahuman alert system onto the tablet Mick had brought, and Jax tampers with the settings as they drive.

It feels uncannily like the first time when they find Leonard again, except in this warehouse, there’s another Leonard Snart, another cold gun, and the self-proclaimed Legion of Doom. Sara would love to say that they kicked ass, but they really barely scraped by. Mick carries Leonard, the real Leonard, back to the Waverider, and they all agree to keep the whole thing as far from Rip’s ears as possible.

Leonard is pallid and beautiful when he’s unconscious. Gideon is drip feeding him a sedative and pain killers. Sara wonders if he met his doppelgänger.

She alternates between watching Leonard sleep, playing solitaire, and scrolling mindlessly through news articles from 2016. She only leaves when Mick literally drags her out. It takes two days for Gideon to declare him healed enough to wake up, and another four hours for the sedative to wear off.

Leonard almost rips the medical cuff off when he sits up abruptly, scattering Sara’s cards to the ground. She ignores them and wraps a hand around Leonard’s arm to keep him from getting up. He slowly sinks back into the bed and Sara slides her hand down to his wrist. The feeling of his pulse against her fingertips is comforting, probably in a really creepy way.

Leonard flexes his fingers. “Did you catch them?” Sara doesn’t know if it’s because he just woke up or if it’s because it’s her, but he’s quiet and serious, his usual sarcastic drawl gone. She’d been noticing more and more lately the way he says her name, soft and reverent, is nothing like the way he says anyone else’s name.

Sara shakes her head. “Don’t worry about them yet. We’ve got a time machine, remember?”

Leonard reaches over with his other hand tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry I was gone like that.”

“You were kidnapped.”

“And before you figured that out, you thought I had disappeared back into the time stream.”

Sara doesn’t answer, but he can tell by the way her fingers tighten on his wrist that he’s right.

“It spit me out once already. I don’t think I taste very good.”

Sara’s eyes get darker. “I beg to differ,” she mumbles.

Leonard actually grins. He pats her hand. “Don’t worry, birdie, you’re stuck with me for a while.”

“Speaking of the future, I’ve been thinking.” Sara leans forward and slides her other hand into his. “About me and you.”


End file.
